Escape into the Light
by Jade V. MacGregor
Summary: Yet another V/Evey romance; V survives and is reunited with his love, his light, who pulls him from the darkness and provides for him the life he never thought possible. Sappy.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: **

This is my first foray into fanfiction in many years. While I encourage you to read and review, I beg you to be kind, for the story has not yet finished revealing itself to me, and I'm a bit rusty at writing.

The timeline will jump back and forth throughout the story. At temporal transitions, be patient and read along and you'll soon find your bearings.

This fic is movieverse, as I have not yet acquired a copy of the graphic novel. However, my birthday is coming quickly, and it is on my list... :-)

Thanks for the reviews thus far. I have fixed the quote that was messed up -- thanks Shadow Systems!

I truly hope that you enjoy,

Regards,

Jade

**Disclaimer: **The characters V, Evey, Fitch, Dominic, etc, everyone who appeared in the movie are not mine. Any characters appearing in this story that weren't in the movie, I made up.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Evey moved toward V, delaying her exit from the Shadow Gallery. She knew she had to leave here, leave him, but wasn't quite ready. There was something left unsaid between them. They had argued, she had said horrible things to him. She had called him a monster, and in a way she believed it; there was no denying the deaths or destruction he had caused. And she was angry, he had tortured her, starved her, locked her in a cell. For what? His own perverse pleasure? To create a clone of himself?

He claimed it was to give her strength, to set her free. Part of her believed him, but part of her still felt betrayed. They had shared so much over their short time together. They had laughed, his deep, rich voice ringing through the Gallery, they had read side by side in companionable silence, he had shown her old movies, and, with the letter, given him an insight into the man he tried to hard to hide. How could he have done such horrible things to her?

Yet, part of her found him irresistible. His grace, his elegance, his gallantry and power. She had watched him spar with the suit of armour and watched the muscles ripple beneath his tunic and caught herself wondering what it would be like to be held by those arms, run her hands up and down the flat planes of his chest.

She moved forward, towards him, until she was inches from his face. V's his heart stopped. How he longed to close the distance to her, hold her in his arms, feel her warmth against him. Perhaps, if he held her tight, her light would banish the darkness from him, the pain, the hate, the need for vengeance. Perhaps he could lose himself in the kindness in her eyes.

V knew he had gazed into the abyss for far too long and thought that his heart was no longer capable of feeling anything but the void. Much to his surprise, however, he felt a freedom in the fact that fate had placed her in his path, that this woman had reawakened his stone heart, where months before, there existed only the abyss gazing back into him.

He wanted so badly to embrace Evey, pull her into his arms and beg her not to leave. But he pulled away. She had said it herself –he was a murderer, a monster, not worthy of someone so pure of heart. She might have been attracted to the man in the mask, the ideal purging Britain of Norsefire, but she could not love the gargoyle beneath the mask.

As she left the gallery, she said she would return. He prayed to a God he thought had long sense abandoned him that she would keep her promise, that she would once again walk through those doors. If only to see her one more time, if only to take in her beauty, to see his love before he died.

Before he died. Again. He should have been dead twenty years, but had survived. He had fled the burn unit before the plastic surgeons had their chance to fully evaluate him for reconstructive surgery, afraid to hear that he was hopeless, needing to escape into the solitude of his broken soul. The weeks in the hospital had done little for his soul, but had, at least kept him alive.

But kept him alive for what, he mused. Justice? Vengeance? Or was it simply hate? He sat down at the piano and stared at the unmoving keys, his inspiration for music gone. He had played for her a few times and had delighted at her bright smile. He realized then that, while he had taken breath, walked the streets at night planning and plotting, he had not actually lived. What a waste of a life, lost in darkness.

--VEV--VEV--VEV

V strode down the dark corridor, staring into its depth, knowing he was destined for his death. A myriad of emotions surged through him – a sense of completion, his twenty year odyssey finally drawing to an end. As he sailed through the darkness, towards his Ithaca, his heart fought against his mind. While he was weary of the planning, the plotting, and, most of all, the death that surrounded and subsumed him, and he wished to find finality, his heart was heavy. Intense loss filled his very soul, as he realized that his quest would truly not take him home, but instead away. V paused, wishing to warn away any suitors for his Penelope, but knowing that eventually she would move on, that she should move on. Tears fell down his face as he came to realize what he was losing.

Gasping, V awoke and sat up in bed. He could feel the dampness on his cheeks and was haunted by the images in his dream.

Months had passed since Evey had left the Shadow Gallery and he had been busy finalizing his plans. In just a few short days, his dream would become reality. His day of reckoning drew near. Those responsible for so many horrors would soon find themselves in Hell, alongside their executioner.

He could see no other way. Nor should his life continue after the fifth of November; his quest completed, he would be a ship without an anchor, adrift in a sea of chaos. Twenty years of his life, dedicated to a single cause, but yet, he found no relief in that knowledge, for his enchanting Evey had changed everything.

Evey. She was his lighthouse, his guide. While the Furies and the impostor standing in the stead of Madame Justice had been his muse for twenty years, Evey had become his raison d'etre. She was his protégé, he knew she would carry on in his stead.

What would England soon look like? What would her life be like once Norsefire had been thoroughly ousted from office? He longed to know. Evey. His love, his life. If only he could bask in the world that would become, if only he could see her joy return as life improved. If only he could live the life the new world would allow. An idea tickled in the back of his mind. Could he?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes: **

The timeline will jump back and forth throughout the story. At temporal transitions, be patient and read along and you'll soon find your bearings.

This fic is movieverse, as I have not yet acquired a copy of the graphic novel. However, my birthday is coming quickly, and it is on my list... :-)

I truly hope that you enjoy,

Regards,

Jade

* * *

**Chapter 2. **

Evey Hammond stood quietly next to Duncan Fraser, lost in thought. "What?" she questioned, his soft brogue breaking through.

He placed his arm around her shoulders and squeezed slightly. "Are you ready for this? I know it tough, considerin' your connection with him."

"Yes, Duncan. I'm ok." She smiled at him. "Really," she followed up when his skeptical look indicated he didn't believe her.

"Ok, then. It's time, lass." Duncan stepped to the podium to a rousing round of applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen of London. Thank you all for attending this memorial occasion in remembrance of the events of Guy Fawkes Day one year ago. It has been a momentous year for London, for all of Britain. The revolution, the breaking of our bonds from Norsefire, the rebirth of our own country, a country government by and for the people. I a honored to introduce Miss Evey Hammond, our Minister of Information and Society."

Applause arose from the audience and smiles from the crowd. An unseen frown also appeared, unseen by all, hidden behind one of many V masks. This expression of unhappiness elicited by the hug, held just a little too long, that Duncan bestowed upon Evey. His Evey.

It was to be expected that she would find love after he was gone. He had known it would come. So many dashing young men involved in the revolution. So many handsome faces to draw her smile and her kiss. But mere expectation did not assuage the sadness fulfillment of his prophecy bore. The sound of her voice pulled him from his melancholic musings.

"We gather today to remember the man who made this all possible, a terrorist who released us from the very oppression supposedly protecting us from terror. We gather here today to remember the man who returned us to our senses, woke us from our passive slumber, a man whose name we do not even know, but whom we know as 'Codename V.'"

Evey paused, breathed, reminded herself again that she could do this. "I am humbled that the people of Britain chose me many months ago, at the end of the blessedly short, albeit still bloody, revolution, to lead the Ministry of Information and Society. I have tried to set the direction of the department as I believe V would have desired, I have tried to honour his efforts, his sacrifice through my work."

A slight shiver ran down her spine, her emotions struggling to be released.

"In these many months, the department has restored the right of the people to express themselves, to access information, to visit museums, libraries, and places of edification. The people of Britain had long suffered from a famine of ideas, of the truth, of words."

"When Norsefire took away the citizens' ability to learn about the government, to participate in it, to learn about the world, to express their opinions, they had stagnated our society, silenced our words."

"Words have always been precious to me; I was enchanted by their ability to inspire, to preserve history, to express opinions, to teach. This love of," she closed her eyes and breathed. "This love of words was intensified, almost sanctified, the day I met V. By now, you all have heard the story of the masked man who came to my rescue in a dark alley, who saved my life, then set me free, free from the power of fear held over me by Noresefire."

"I soon became known as V's partner in crime, so to speak," a collective chuckle arose from the audience. "After the violence of the initial stages of revolution waned, you chose me to carry on his quest to return those freedoms, that precious ability to read, write, and access information."

She smiled, then, knowing that V would be proud of her. "In this past year, the Ministry has reestablished long-closed research centers, libraries, museums, university programs that challenged the world as it stood, promoted learning and investigation, supported the free flow of ideas and transparency in the political process."

"But the Ministry of Information and Society has not been the only entity carrying on V's legacy. I am proud to say that so many others had also carried on his work, that his dream is being fulfilled each and every day. I've watched as a new government has formed, exiled political leaders returning to our country, now free to promote a system of participatory government once again. We've drafted and ratified a new _Constitution of the United Kingdom_, based upon the Classical ideals of democracy. Our newest government will work _for_ the people of England, and it will fear them. For, as a great man had said, _people should not be afraid of their governments; governments should be afraid of their people_."

Applause erupted upon that sentiment, and Evey smiled again. Even though V had been lost, his legacy was not, nor his memory. She knew he would continue to live on in the hearts of Britain.

"And it is great pride and great honour that I unveil his statue today. V is now immortalized next Bouddica on the banks of the Thames. How very fitting it is to find him next to another warrior who had sacrificed their life to fight oppression and control."

"Everyone must remember, while V had a grand vision for the future of England, he was not merely an ideal. He was a man, a man that breathed the same air you do, walked down the same city streets. I have no doubt you will never forget his legacy, his ideals. I also beg of you, don't forget he was also a man, a man like anyone here, and while he would be proud to be remembered for his support of an idea, it should also be remembered that he once lived, once laughed, once loved."

Holding back tears, Evey turned to the statue, still under its black cover, and nodded to the Prime Minister to unveil it. Duncan looked back at Evey, smiled, and pulled the cord.

The black tarp whipped back to reveal the bronze likeness of V, mimicking the snap of his cloak when he had pulled it back to reach for his knives. The snap of camera shutters and applause was soon all Evey could hear as she looked out upon the crowd, so many of them dressed as her V.

Evey saw Duncan approaching her and shook her head at him. While he did not know the extent of the truth, her friend knew that V had meant more to her than a mentor. And she knew he wanted more than friendship with her, but she had nothing to give to him, she had already been given.

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV**

Unbeknownst to Evey, she had just looked upon her fallen hero, the inspiration that had led her to greatness this past year. A V stood in the back of the crowd, one of many, but this one frozen in place, unable to move, unable to even take in the revelry around him.

_What a beautiful speech_, he thought. He felt a tear travel down his cheek, beneath his mask. _What a gift that I have just received from my dearest Evey. _

He soon regained his composure, his strength, and moved away from the crowd, back towards the heart of the city, traveling towards his heart.

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV**

Evey, numb, made her way down into the Shadow Gallery, emotions still carefully in check, as they had been since she had dragged his body onto the train and surrounded him with roses, since she had pressed the lever that sent the explosives-laden train towards Parliament and her love to his funeral. She had been strong, fighting the loss his death had inflicted using the very strength he had imparted upon her.

Walking back into his home, however, returning today to the place they had shared for the briefest of time, she could feel the cracks forming and the sadness piercing through the armour she had donned.

Evey locked the door behind her and blindly make her way to her bedroom to grab his cloak. She had kept it close to her at night since his death a year ago, a reminder of the man she loved. It had grown threadbare in places, where she had rubbed it against her cheek, wishing it was the warmth of his hand she felt instead.

She made it to the couch before she collapsed, all strength sapped from her body. Seeing the statue tribute to him unveiled today had been too much. His ever-smiling face looking down at her, haunting her with thought of what might have been, what should have been.

Evey curled up in the corner of the couch, trying to hide from the pain, and pulled the cloak over her. She grasped the material to her face, as she had done a thousand time, breathing in what was left of his scent. It was strangely strong tonight, as if his essence had returned to her on the anniversary of his death.

When she could hold out no longer, Evey began to cry. Softly at first, as the first tears rolled down her cheeks, then harder, sobs wracking her thin frame.

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV**

Pain radiated through his body. The bullet wounds, albeit barely breaking the skin in most places, burned intensely in his shoulders, where the armour hadn't added a level of protection. Even the weakened-metal bullets caused major damage to exposed flesh.

V stumbled into the wall, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He would live, he knew, but he was close to passing out and knew he had to make it back to Evey before he gave into the need to rest. He needed to tell her of his love, as much for his own release as to leave her with a pleasant memory of him.

While his life would continue, he would be dead to her, he would never again see her smile at him when he cooked dinner for her or finished a book he had recommended. He was reminded of the lyrics to one of the songs in his beloved jukebox. _No one knows she's slipping through my hands...I can't be her angel now…no, its not my place to hold her down."_ He couldn't hold her down, hold her back any longer. Once he was gone, she would fly.

_It is probably cruel, this trick. But it is necessary._ V thought back at the past few days. He had broken into the Norsefire headquarters and carefully swapped out the military and police-issue bullets with some aluminum bullets acquired years ago, when citizens were still allowed low-powered firearms for personal protection, before all weapons were banned.

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV**

As soon as she turned away from him and entered the subway car, he opened his eyes. He knew he had to work quickly, before she finished her exploration of the massive bomb he had created. He struggled to his feet, fighting the desire to cry out in pain, and limped to the darkened corner where his inanimate doppelganger awaited. Using the last bit of his strength, he dragged the masked mannequin to where he had laid, head in Evey's hand, and quietly made his way back to the Shadow Gallery.

He felt a rumble, undoubtedly from Parliament exploding, fireworks shooting off to the tune of the _1812 Overture _and smiled. His work was done, but Evey's was just beginning. It was time for her to build her life and time for her help rebuild Britain.

She was his protégé, he had made her strong, given her a vision and a passion, and he knew she would rise up, take over where he had left off.

He did not linger in his home, quickly grabbing his first aid kit, a bag that he had packed full of food and a few changes of clothe. Before closing the door, he turned to look one last time at the Gallery. _Evey will come back here. This is her home now. _He left a single rose on the piano, a parting gift for his love.

The physical pain paled in comparison to the breaking of his heart, the wrenching of his soul caused by the knowledge he had to let her go. He was not meant for anyone so beautiful, so good. _I hope she will find happiness here. _

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV**

V slipped into the Gallery quietly and unnoticed. He hoped to catch just a glimpse of her. An internal war was waging, whether he would simply indulge his desire to see her while remaining in the shadows to spare her the shock of discovering a dead man in her house, or if he could bring himself to finally step from the shadows and face her after all this time.

He did not plan to stay, to burden her with his presence. She had been so brilliant the past year without him to hold her back. She had truly fulfilled her potential, she had such vision, such passion, she had accomplished so much. He just had to see her. Be close to her again, if only for a moment.

He was not prepared for the sight he found. He expected for her to be preparing dinner or listening to the jukebox, relaxing after her triumphal day, reveling in the impact she had made on the new Britain in the past year. Instead, she was expressing great sorrow.

What could she be grieving for, he wondered? Was this her release of a year's worth of stress and pressure of helping to create a new system of government, away from censors and curfews, back to freedom of though and expression and action?

Ah, but she was a beauty to behold, even wit her eyes swollen and red from her tears. She had let her hair grow out, it was longer than it had been on Guy Fawkes Day a year ago when she had still wore the haircut he had given her.

She was curled beneath a dark blanket, her body shaking. _No_, he realized. It was not a blanket – _could it be? _He wondered, had she really hung on to his memory so? She was clutching one of his cloaks to her face. Could it really be that she had missed him so greatly?

'Oh, V. Why did you have to die? I'm so sorry I failed you. If only I could have saved you, if only my love had been enough to give you a reason to live.'

V couldn't breath, he struggled to fill his lungs. Her words had landed a hammer blow. Her love? Had his Evey truly fallen in love with him as well? His decision was suddenly made; he had to go to her, had to reveal himself. His heart was breaking watching his best friend, his love, his life mourn for him.

V closed his eyes, steadied himself with a deep breath, and stepped from the shadows. He could hide from her no longer. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocked and, moving silently, slowly approached her, filled with apprehension. Even if she had fallen in love with the man in the mask, could she possibly live with the scarred visage with which he was cursed? While he feared she could not, perhaps he could at least one more time, feel her in his arms, have one more dance to remember when he was gone again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: **

The reunion of V and Evey, a little roughly composed in places, but the mix of emotions I imagine it would be.

Please read and review. Hope you enjoy! And yes, there is more to come...

Regards,

Jade

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Slowly, he held the handkerchief out to Evey. "Don't cry, my dearest Evey," his deep, smooth voice soothed.

_No_, she thought_._ Her eyes shot open. _It isn't possible._ Had her mind finally crumbled?

When she raised her eyes, looking back at her was the face featured in her daydreams, when she indulged her desire to remember what was and what could have been. It was the same face that had smiled back at her from bronze on the banks of the Thames, the one that she had seen all over the streets of London.

She looked up at him with questioning eyes. That voice, the regal bearing, even the way he held his head. They were all his. But no, it couldn't be.

"To weep is to make less the depth of grief," he spoke softly to her, drawing closer.

_Shakespeare,_ _Henry the Sixth, _she thought.

"V!" She lept from the couch and ran to him, stopping just short. "Is it….is it really you?"

"Yes, mademoiselle." Bowing deeply, just as he had done upon their first meeting.

She closed the distance between them, and he swept her into his arms, closing her close to him. It felt so right, like coming home.

"But…how…I saw you die, V," she managed, alternating between tears and a joyous laugh that warmed his heart.

Then, angrily, "No. No…I saw you die," She pulled from him. "I put your body on the train myself."

"All an illusion, my dear." He tried to keep his tone light. "A final masquerade for the masked malfeasant, managed by a mannequin in my stead, as you explored the Underground car filled with explosives." He laughed to himself. "Your Viking funeral proved a fitting finale for Norsefire and a conspicuous cover for my crafty caper."

Despite V's plan, his love was obviously not amused in the alliterative parallel between their first meeting and this reunion.

"You bloody wanker!" She struck his check with her hands, again and again. "Bastard." She began sobbing, screaming at him. "You've been alive this whole time. You let me think you were dead? You knew how I felt about you and you let me suffer?"

"No, my dear. I didn't mean for you to suffer – I meant only to protect you. It wasn't safe for you to be associated with me while any members of Norsefire still held positions of power. Had they known I had survived, they would have sought to publicly make an example of me, hoping to scare the citizenry back into submission. They were vicious, they wouldn't have stopped at anything to get to me, they would have used _you_ to get to me. I couldn't do that to you, I couldn't put you in any more danger than I already had by making you a part of my movement." V sighed, dropping his face to stare at the ground.

"Besides, the world no longer needed the violence brought by V, the world needed Evey." He played with the syllables of her name just has he did upon discovering the the first time he heard it.

"The world needed _your_ leadership and vision. It was time for you to step out of the shadows offered by my association and into the bright possibilities of the new Britain. It was better on both counts for you to think, as the world did, that I had been a martyr to the cause."

"But I missed you so much. If I had at least known you were alive…" she pleaded.

He cut her off. "No, Evey. It had to be a clean break – I would do nothing but hold you back if I had remained in your life. You had to have your own chance to ascend, unchained from the bonds of a monster. And if you thought I was dead, you could move on…with your life without me. Without it breaking my heart to see you fall in love with some strapping revolutionary bloke. You see, I never intended to come back you…"

"But, V…I…"

"Evey, dearest, let me have my say. I had wanted to die, originally. I would outlive my use in the post November 5th world." He paused, gathering his thoughts.

"But everything changed when I met you. I suddenly wanted to feel the freedom in New Albion, experience the elation, to finally live, Evey. Experience the emotions my need for revenge had denied me. You changed me, Evey. My plan to die was no longer acceptable."

"I decided to do what I could to live, but still stay away from here, from you. Let you move on, but protect myself from the pain of watching you do so until…" he looked up at her, searching her face, "….until I saw you today, heard you speaking and I knew, as much as it would pain me to part from my love again, I had to see you smile, tell you how proud I am of you."

_His love? Could it be? _"So you meant what you said, then…when you were…dying. You really fell in love with me?" She moved slowly back towards him.

V smiled beneath his mask. "Yes, my dearest. How could I not? The brightest thing in my life became this kind, sweet woman, leading me from the shadows. The woman who maced a cop to save me after only knowing me for a day." V chuckled at the memory, then quieted. "The woman who appreciated me for who I was, even though I was a monster. The woman who returned to me for a dance."

To V's surprise, Evey reached out to him then, hugging him tight. "Oh, V. I fell in love with you, too. Your wit, your heart, the way you watched me when you thought I wasn't looking, the way you lived your life with so much passion, a passion I had never had for anything. I think it began that first night, when you invited me along."

Evey looked up at him. "V, kiss me. Let me see the man I thought I lost, let me feel your lips, let me lose myself in them."

V's eyes closed tightly against the pain. She felt so wonderful, but yet he tried to pull away. "No, Evey." He wanted so badly to believe her, believe that her love was truly for him and not the ideal behind the vigilante.

"You couldn't love a monster like me. You love the heroic idea of a caped crusader. The man behind the mask lacks the appeal of a dark knight. The scars on my soul echo the horribly disfigured body hidden beneath this costume. You deserve more than I could offer. You deserve to wake up in the morning and smile at a dashing man whose heart is as pure as your own. There can be no fairy tale ending for this beast."

"Please, V." She pleaded. "When soul met soul that first night, somewhere inside me, I knew I had found my mate. What beauty God created in our match, no Devil's fire could undue." She stroked the cheek of his mask lightly, brushing her hand down to the sensitive side of his neck, and felt him tremble at her touch.

V hesitated, warring with himself. No, she couldn't accept him. He was too hideous. Any beauty he had once possessed, in his face or his soul, had been destroyed by that fire and the subsequent years of plotting and planning his revenge. But…what if she could accept him? Love him? His dearest Evey had restored to him his will to live. If he didn't trust her enough to at least try, he would always wonder what could have been.

"V, I know this is hard. Just let me feel the touch of your hand, as I have longed to for so long."

V sighed. It was time. Time to take a chance. At least he would finally know the sensation of her porcelain skin, the softness of her cheek.

He looked down and slowly removed his gloves, letting them fall to the floor. Gently, he reached up and touched his fingertips to her face. He brushed her hair back, away from her eyes, and she moved into his touch. His palm was now flush against the plane of her face.

She sighed softly, goosebumps covering her body. Her reaction pleased him so, relief washing over him. The rough texture, the uneven hills and valleys that covered his hands had not fazed her.

Growing bolder, he reached out with his other hand and slowly ran it up and down her arm, eventually reaching back to the nape of her neck, feeling the smoothness of her skin, reveling in the way she moved closer to him. He caressed her softly, moving his fingers along her neck, her shoulders, her back, amazed by the warmth of her skin.

Evey had never known such tenderness. A feeling of rightness, the contentment of home washed over her. "Oh, V."

"Evey, How I've longed to touch you. How I've dreamed about holding you close," he whispered to her.

"I love you, V. I've loved you for so long."

Evey reached her hand up and slipped it beneath the long hair of his wig, brushing his neck. She felt the evidence of his scars, and his breath caught in his throat as she moved closer yet.

She slowly removed with wig, meeting his eyes, recognizing the fear and uncertainty in them. "I won't reject you, V. I could never hurt you so."

He signed deeply and pulled slightly back. He wanted to run, to flee from her sign, save himself from the pain if her reaction was of disgust. This was his last chance to end this.

Panic filled his heart, but he pushed it away, he had to at least try, or he would always wonder.

V reached up, his own hands revolted by the feeling of bare scalp, naked but for the scars, and released the straps of the mask.

Taking a deep breath and looking down into her eyes, he pulled the mask from his face, watching her expression closely for the slightly indication of horror or pity. Thankfully, he found none.

Strangely, he saw only her smile and the love in her eyes. V could hardly believe her reaction, he must be dreaming. How could she not avert her eyes, horrified by what she saw? Why was her disappointment not overwhelming her?

"Oh, V." Her hands gently caressed his skin, so unused to the feel of the cool air, let alone the soft touch of her hands. Evey smiled at him and took in the sight of his face. "I've waited so long to see your face, to truly see _you._"

"I'm sorry that this is all I have to give you, that no handsome prince resides behind this mask." V closed his eyes and sighed.

"I want no fairy tale prince, V. Just the man I love. Let me kiss you, let me feel your lips pressed to mine, our breaths becoming one."

V moved cautiously toward her upturned face and closed his eyes. It was finally time for the kiss for which he had longed for two long years. Their lips met tentatively at first, a brush of a kiss that caused a shock to his system. They moved together again, he felt the softness of her lips pressed to his own.

Evey moaned softly at the sensation of his rough, yet supple lips against her own. His mouth parted, taking the kiss deeper, breathing in her sigh.

So quickly, he lost himself in her sweetness. Her scent enveloped him and he pulled her tighter into his arms. Something inside him broke, his breath hitched. His carefully crafted control slipping away.

He couldn't get her close enough. The warmth of her body pressed to his settled the chaos of his emotions, a calm washing over him. When she tentatively touched her tongue to his bottom lip, his breath caught again.

She traced the tip of her tongue across his rough lip and, pleased with his reaction, ventured deeper, seeking his tongue with her own. V felt as though an electric shock had hit him when he felt the contact and groaned. His head was swimming and he could think of nothing but his sweet Evey, the feeling of her against him, the little sounds she was making in the back of her throat.

He lost all control and took the kiss deeper. He slanted his mouth over hers, again and again, his hands roaming over her body, no longer gentle, but rough and demanding. His tongue played with hers, entering and retreating, mimicking a much more primal motion.

Both their breaths were ragged when he pulled away, knowing he had to end this now or he wouldn't be able to stop, that he would be asking too much of her.

"Oh, V. You…that…." she began, unsure of what to say. Evey had never though a simple kiss could affect her so much, shake her to her core. Instead, she reached for him and brushed her hand down his cheek. She watched his eyes and saw the same passion she felt reflected in them, but also uncertainty. She knew he was still afraid of her reaction to his burns.

Even if she had not loved him so much, she would not have minded them. She could still appreciate his strong cheekbones, square jaw, and his beautiful, piercing blue eyes. She was intensely aware of the powerful arms holding her close and could feel the coils of muscle hidden beneath his clothing.

"You…V…" she began again. "Wow," she finally managed, and smiled at him. He laughed then, and brought his forehead to rest against hers.

When he found his voice again, he said "Soul meets soul on lovers' lips."

_Percy Shelley_, _Prometheus Unbound_, Evey thought. _My new favorite author._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **The characters V, Evey, Fitch, Dominic, etc, everyone who appeared in the movie are not mine. Any characters appearing in this story that weren't in the movie, I made up.

**Author's Note:**

I offer my apologies for the delay in updating -- its been a particularly long, hard week.

Thanks for the reviews thus far. Keep them coming.

I truly hope that you enjoy,

Regards,

Jade

* * *

**Chapter 4 **

VEV--VEV--VEV

_When he found his voice again, he said "Soul meets soul on lovers' lips."_

_Percy Shelley, Prometheus Unbound, Evey thought. My new favorite author._

VEV--VEV--VEV

"Is that what you want, V? Do you want for us to be lovers?" Evey looked into his eyes, knowing that it was what they both wanted, feeling the evidence of his arousal pressed against her, but also aware that he might not be ready for her to see the entirety of his scarred body.

"Evey, my love. "There is nothing I want more in this world. But, you'll see…the scars…my body is so far from...I don't want you to …."

"V," she kissed him lightly. "That doesn't matter to me." She closed her eyes, searching for a way to convince him, but knowing no words would undue decades of pain.

"V, please, make love to me." Her voice was husky, filled with longing.

_How could she want that? She had seen his face, surely she couldn't still want him. _"Are you…please be certain this is what you want." _I don't know what would happen if she changes her mind._ "Once I feel your skin against my skin, once I know the ecstasy of your love, I won't be able to let you go. Never again." He spoke quietly, lost in her eyes, hoping desperately she would accept. Would she realize the full extent of his devotion to her?

"V, I spent the last year imagining what it would have been like if you had lived. During the day, I was under control, driven, numb to the pain." Evey closed her eyes and pushed away the residual heartbrake his absence had caused.

"But at night, V, here in the Gallery, I would lose myself, dreaming about the feel of your lips against mine...fantasizing about making love with you." She paused and smiled. "Even wondering what it would be like to wake up next to you for …" she stopped and shook her head. Admitting that she had allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to spend the rest of her life with him, to grow old with him, would be too much, burden this moment with too many expectations. "I'm ready, V. Please."

There was something wonderfully freeing in hearing those words from his love, his sweet Evey. V moved quickly, sweeping his arm behind her knees and lifting her into his arms. He carried her down the hall and into his bedroom. For the first time in decades, his mask was long forgotten.

V placed her gently on her feet, still facing him. He found her looking back up at him and was in disbelief of this sweet woman standing before him. He lowered his head to brush a tender kiss on her lips, just to find himself drawn in, deeper and deeper, lost in the feeling of her body against his, head swimming from the intensity of emotion.

Evey slowly broke the embrace and stepped back. _No,_ he gasped, _she couldn't be changing her mind._ Evey smiled at him and began to unbutton her blouse. His breath caught as each opened button revealed more of her flawless skin to him. He stepped forward when the last button was undone, and brushed the material from her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, Evey. So perfect." Reverently, he reached out to her, tracing his hands softly over her body and cupped her breasts. He could feel her nipples beneath the fabric of her bra, brushing his thumbs over them. When her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, he grew bolder, massaging her breasts and watching the desire show on her face.

He reached lower, to the waistband of her pants. V popped the button and slid them from her hips, taking her hand as she stepped from them at the floor. "You are such a beauty to behold, my love. So perfect."

She came to him then and closed the distance that her undressing had created. V tried to pull her into his embrace, but she resisted, her hands instead reaching for the clasps of his tunic. As each inch of his clothing was open, he felt more liberated by the feeling of the cool night air on his skin.

Tears broke free from Evey's eyes as she looked at his body. "Oh, V." She kissed the hollow of his throat and felt him shiver.

"How brave you must be to survive this. How strong you are." She took in the condition of his skin, running her hands over the uneven flesh, red and white, few places worse than others. She saw the distinctive marks left by the bullet holes and kissed each one.

He felt her lips on his skin, kissing away the pain of his past and cursed himself for ever doubting her. Gathering her close, he laid her softly on the bed and covered her body with his own.

Locked in a deep kiss, she let her hands wander over his hard body, exploring every muscle, every curve, every plane. His years of training had created hard, sculpted muscle everywhere her hands touched.

The firm heat pressed against her told Evey that V was as ready as she, but she had not given him all that she wanted just yet. She nipped the tender spot below his ear, working down his neck and delighting in the moans that escaped his mouth. Evey traced her nails up and down his back, the coiled strength of his shoulders tensing as she slipped one leg, then another around his.

Their bodies began to move against one another until he felt the dampness of her desire through the last remaining bits of clothing. He released the clasp of her bra and he took the peak of her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across the tip and feeling her writhe beneath him.

He rolled to one side, his stomach and chest pressed against her side, resting on one arm and ran the other hand down her body, exploring. When he reached her panties, he slipped his fingers beneath their edge and pulled them from her hips. He rained kissed over her breasts, her chest, her stomach, while his hand found her heat.

V lightly used his fingers to stroke her sensitive nub, feeling her begin to move restlessly. Evey thought surely she would die from the sweet torture of his attentions, moaning softly and feeling the pressure build within her.

She cried out when his fingers slipped inside her silky folds, wet with her desire for him. "Oh, V, please," she cried. "I need you, I need to feel you inside of me."

He did not hesitate any longer. He pulled his underwear quickly away and settled between her thighs. She was so hot, felt to soft to his tip, pressed against her. "Evey, I love you." He looked deep into Evey's eyes as he said those words and listened to her gasp as he sank into her.

The heat was amazing, she was so tight, so wet. He began to move, slowly, sweetly, capturing her moans with kisses. He felt his desire building, higher and higher, as he tried to control his pace.

Her hands were everywhere, roaming up and down his body, learning every inch of him, accepting the realities of his scarred skin, coming to fully know the man she loved so much. It felt so wonderful, so right to be this close. Skin against skin, heat to heat.

Evey heard the sounds of his pleasure, felt the rumble in his throat. Evey felt a tightness building deep inside her. He filled her, so completely, he felt so exquisite inside her. She began to quiver, the sweet torture of his motion growing stronger. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper and began to move against him, never wanting to let him go.

V lost all control at her possession of him, moving faster, harder, feeling her body tense until he thought she would surely shatter. He drove into her, again and again, trying to hold his own release until he felt her find her own.

Evey could take it no longer, the sweet pressure was too much to bear. When she peaked, she cried his name and shuddered against him, her body unable to stop the tremors.

When he felt her squeeze him tight, heard her cry his name, watched her eyes open and find his own, he let his own release come. He poured himself into her, calling her name, declaring his love again and again.

As V gathered her close into his arms and the snuggled down into the comfort of the bed, wrapped up in each other, he wondered what he had done to deserve such a gift.

**VEV--VEV--VEV--VEV **

Evey awoke to the feel of him behind her, one strong arm holding her close to his chest. She smiled, reminded of their beautiful lovemaking. How empty her life would have been if she had not experienced that perfection.

He shifted a bit in his sleep, snuggling closer and throwing one leg over her possessively. What had he said the night before? He wouldn't be able to let her go? She certainly hoped not. She had lost him once, she didn't know what she would do if she lost him again.

She thought back to the first night she had spent in the Shadow Gallery and smiled again. When she had awoken, he had tea and eggy in a basket ready for her. She would have never guessed that two years later she would be waking up in his arms.

Evey turned in his arms, facing him, and wrapped her arms around his torso. He was so peaceful when he slept. She used the time to drink in the sight of him. His skin was rough, knots of pink and white tissue weaving across his body, covering muscles hardened through years of training. She gently kissed the skin directly above his collarbone, tasting a slight saltiness, evidence of their exertion last night.

V murmured her name and slowly opened his eyes, to find her watching him. She shifted, resting herself on her left elbow so she now looked over him. He rolled over, resting on his back and looked up at his love. Evey reached down and kissed him gently. "I could get used to this," she said.

"As could I, my love." He pulled her down to him, kissing her again, then shifting her so that her head rested again his chest.

"I can hear your heart beat, V."

"It beats only for you, my love. You are the most amazing woman. To accept a monster like me into your heart, into your bed."

"No, not a monster, V. A man, the man that I love."

V closed his eyes and sighed, feeling himself slip back into sleep. "I only hope that this is not just a dream."

When V next awoke, the aromas of coffee and bacon wafted into the room. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and rifled through his drawers to find some cotton lounge pants. He started to reach for his mask, but stopped himself.

He still wanted to hide his face once again, as had been his habit for decades. He didn't think he would ever get over that desire to hide himself, the need to protect himself from the rejection, the looks of horror his appearance would cause. But,_ no_, he thought. _Not this morning, not any more with Evey._ She deserved his trust; she had shown him last night that she could live with his façade and find the man beneath.

What he saw when he walked into the kitchen warmed his very soul. There was Evey, making eggy in a basket, humming quietly to herself, dressed in an old robe of his. It was then he knew, she was it. She was his future, his life, his love. She was his destiny.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her shoulder sweetly, traveling up her neck, stopping to nuzzle the spot below her ear lobe.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered into her ear.

She turned to face him. "Good morning, V. Breakfast is ready."

His breath caught at the beauty in her shining face.


End file.
